that kind of dream
by SlashPassion
Summary: Yuki has no clue what to do when visions of Natsuki dance in his head. Yuki/Natsuki fluff
1. Dreaming

It always starts with his voice.

_"Don't move or I'll kill you."_

The words quiver in the air, cueing the rest of the scene to come into focus. Natsuki's arms encircle Yuki from behind, and Yuki is sure Natsuki can feel his goosebumps under his shirt and his heart knocking against his ribs.

Next, Natsuki nibbles Yuki's ear. Yuki gasps at the blunt points digging gently into the cartilage, flushing a dusky red as they give way to the swipe of a tongue.

When Natsuki kisses his way down to the edge of Yuki's shirt collar, leaving circles of wet on Yuki's skin that grow cold against the coastal air, Yuki whines. Natsuki pauses, then resumes more urgently, encouraged by the reaction. His narrow chin rests in the hollow of Yuki's shoulder while his fingers unravel the knot of Yuki's tie.

_"Are you okay?"_

Yuki nods, eyes squeezed shut, no longer trusting his voice. He barely hears Natsuki whisper _cute_. His tie falls to either side of his neck.

_One..two...three..four..._Yuki counts each button as it is unfastened, trying to calm himself down, to work the tremble out of his breath. He loses all tenuous control when Natsuki untucks him to get at the last few closures.

_Five...six..._seven.

Warm, rough hands whose mere touch conveys their expertise palm the contours of Yuki's torso, tease his navel, slowly roll raised bumps of pink between their fingertips. Yuki lolls his head back on Natsuki's shoulder, giving soft moans half into messy black hair. The redhead doesn't even recognize himself as he grasps Natsuki's lithe, calloused fingers in his own.

_"Natsu-ki-"_

Natsuki returns the squeeze, presses his lips, feather-light, to burning cheek, and frees a hand to plunge it down, down, _down..._

Yuki inevitably jolts out of the dream at this moment, sparing him the embarrassment of soiled sheets but leaving him with a tingle _down there_ that turns his face a color to match his hair. He shivers against his pillow.

This is the third time Yuki has dreamed this particular dream, and it's all he can do to be in the same town as Natsuki anymore.

"Yuu-kii!"

Haru bounces into the room, pole and tackle in hand.

"Yuki, let's gooooo!"

Yuki shrinks from his hyperactive housemate. "I'm really sick. Go away."

It's not entirely a lie, Yuki thinks. For one thing, the dreams are chronic. If left unchecked, there just might be a heart attack in his future.

"Keitoooo! Yuki won't get out of bed!"

The small, clipped footsteps of the Frenchwoman precede her benevolent smile and twinkling eyes in the doorway.

"Yuki? What's wrong?"

Haru thrusts his bottom lip out in a pout. "He says he's _sick_."

"Yuki?"

Cool, soothing fingers tug the sheets back from Yuki's head and lean against his temple.

"Haru, you're going to have to do without our Yuki today. It seems he has a fever."

"Fever?"

"It means he needs to rest and be alone for a while, okay?"

Haru hangs his head and grudgingly shuffles out. "O-_kay_."

Keito sits beside Yuki on the bed, stroking his hair in thoughtful silence.

"You know, it's alright to feel what you're feeling."

"Eh?" Yuki turns to face his grandmother. Keito's gaze reads him like a map.

"I know a blush when I see it."

Yuki leaps away from Keito to the far edge of the bed, plastering himself against the wall.

"W-w-wh-wha-!"

"You don't have to talk about it. Just know that you shouldn't be ashamed of it. It's all part of youth."

Yuki doesn't come off the wall until Keito leaves. He slumps forward in solitude, willing the heat of his face to consume him on the spot.

_I should have moved. Then Natsuki would've killed me._

~~~End

A/N: OTP forever right here. Tsuritama does not belong to me, but my deep, deep feelings for Yuki/Natsuki do. More to come of this, eventually. Please tell me what you think! Cheers and a good day.


	2. Visiting

"A fever?"

"Mm-hmm." Haru dips his head somberly. Akira and Natsuki exchange baffled glances.

"He _was_ acting odd yesterday."

"Guess he got worse."

The three boys fall silent, their fishing lines shifting absently in the current. Even the fish seem distracted, weaving aimlessly between patches of sunlight to disappear and reappear.

Natsuki stares listlessly at the end of his line in the water.

"It's not right somehow."

"The air is strange."

"We need Yuki," Haru agrees.

With that realization, the boys become indirectly aware of their connection, of the web behind their friendship that sprawls deeper than everyday interaction or obligation. Natsuki turns toward the others, a piece of a smile on his lips. "What do you say?"

"To what?"

"To a visit! A visit!" Haru hops up and down. "Yahoo!"

Natsuki reels in his line. The others follow suit.

"Are you sure that's wise?" Akira hesitates. "If he's sick-"

"I don't think he's sick."

"Ha?" Akira and Haru chorus. Natsuki picks up his tackle and swings his pole over his shoulder.

"It's a hunch."

He starts walking. Haru is quick to follow. "Yay, Ouji!"

Akira hangs back and consults Tapioca at his side.

"What do you think?"

"Follow them."

"Very well." Akira starts after them, trailing a ways behind.

"Hey." Natsuki's feet come to a halt on the sweltering asphalt. "I want to stop at my house. If he _is_ sick..."

He turns to look at his companions. "I'm gonna cook something."

"Ooh, yum! I'll come too!"

Akira and Tapioca share a nod.

Natsuki makes them wait outside. He leans over the pot almost to the point of tiptoe, letting the sweet steam condense on his chin.

"Perfect."

He tastes the soup just to make it official; "perfect," he repeats. He boxes some up and leaves the rest for the others, along with a note, just in case he doesn't return by dinnertime.

He has a hunch he won't.

Haru gets to the Sanada residence first and pokes the doorbell enthusiastically. Keito answers.

"I'm _ho_-ome!"

"Welcome back, Haru." Her eyes shift up to Natsuki and Akira. "Oh, hello! Welcome all!" Haru and Natsuki make their way into the sitting room, but Akira stays at the threshold with Tapioca.

"Won't you come in?"

Akira looks down, shakes his head toward the floor.

"Just tell Yuki-get well soon for me."

"Alright..."

Akira turns on his heel and saunters off into the day. Tapioca echoes Akira's sentiments and waddles away to catch up.

Keito addresses Haru and Natsuki in the sitting room. "Let me go tell Yuki you're here."

"Yeah!"

Natsuki nods in acknowledgement.

Keito gives a soft tap on Yuki's door, opening it after a permissive grunt.

"Yuki, you have visitors. Haru and Natsuki are here."

Yuki shoots up in bed like a jack-in-the-box. "_What_-!"

He flops back frustratedly. "No!"

"Yuki," Keito leans against the doorway, somewhat amused. "Why do you you think they're here?"

"Don't care."

"Well, they _do_. They care for you. That's why they're here."

"Mmrf."

There is a beat of silence, then Keito sighs. "I'm sending them in."

"You can't!" Yuki's face is the very embodiment of pure desperation.

"Yuki, I _know_ you care about them too." Keito's voice hints at an understanding that makes Yuki shudder.

"Prepare yourself, okay? Oh, and Akira says to get well soon."

Yuki whimpers, unable to stop the red from creeping back into his cheeks.

Haru materializes in the room a few minutes later. "How's Yuki?"

"Fine." _Crappy._

"Still sick?"

"Yeah."

Childish fingers wrap over the edge of the sheets, causing Yuki to look up.

Concern, of all things, radiates from Haru's eyes. They glow softly with the sentiment.

"Get better Yuki! You have to try your best!"

Yuki is strangely touched by the alien. "Thanks."

Haru scrunches the sheets in his fists, releases, scrunches. "Get better. Try."

Yuki forces a weak smile, which Haru returns before skipping off to another part of the house.

It was an unusual enough encounter to make Yuki forget about Natsuki. That is, until...

_Knock knock knock._

Yuki chokes on his breath, eyes snapping wide open. He dares to raise his head.

Sure enough, Natsuki stands in the doorway, knuckles resting against the frame.

The steam blowing out of Yuki's ears could rival that of the soup in heat and sweetness.

~~~End

A/N: Woo, second chapter! One more to go. Thanks for the feedback thus far! Cheers and a good day.


	3. Tasting

Natsuki ventures into the room, closing the door with a click. "I brought soup."

"I'm not hungry." Yuki's stomach twists in a twinge of panic. The rapidly increasing temperature of his face threatens to burn a hole in the sheet that is his only defense against the bespectacled invader.

"Sick people are never hungry. You should eat anyway."

"Dun wanna" is the muffled reply.

"C'mon." Natsuki perches on the bed. Yuki wriggles away to avoid all contact.

"Yuki. What's wrong with you?"

"I'm _sick_!"

"Then eat the soup. At least taste it, for all my effort."

"I'm not gonna eat the soup!" Yuki abandons his only defense to yell at Natsuki, leaving his face exposed.

It takes Yuki a minute to taste it. The pale, thin lips on his and the shock are the first sensations, but then it's there, subtle, the flavor of spices blended with skill lingering on Natsuki's breath.

_Natsuki's-!_

Yuki's eyes jitter in their sockets, then harden and slant into that frenzied, demonic mask. The water rises.

_What do I do what do I dowhatdoI-_

Natsuki pulls away quickly. "You're mad?"

What was that in Natsuki's voice? It was lower, _damper_ than usual.

Then it dawns on Yuki. Natsuki is embarrassed.

"N-no! I'm not mad! I'm-I-"

Yuki feels like his lungs are shrinking. His voice is meek.

"I just don't know what to do."

He can't look at Natsuki, but words are pushing up his throat and they erupt before he can think.

"I-I've been-having these-dreams lately where we-we-do-_things_-" Yuki teeters dangerously at his limit.

"Like what." Natsuki is very quiet.

"Hnn-you know, like-what you just did-just now-and-and-"

"And more?"

Yuki sneaks a glimpse of Natsuki, straining to form a reply. What he sees clams him up completely.

Natsuki's head is ducked down, but he's peering up at Yuki slantwise, through his eyelashes, and his cheeks are pink. Not red. Bubblegum pink.

Yuki is suddenly acutely aware of Natsuki's position on his bed. He sits up, imploring Natsuki to save him from saying it, but Natsuki waits. Finally, Yuki forces it out.

"Yes, and more."

"And how did that make you feel?" Natsuki is taking no chances after his near-humiliation.

As Yuki recalls the dreams, part of him tingles familiarly, starts to lift...

"_Geh_!" Yuki grabs his pillow and frantically attempts to repress himself. His feet curl in on each other as the scenes come back, as the space between him and Natsuki on the bed begins to feel like friction.

It's answer enough for Natsuki. He reaches out, takes Yuki's face in his hands, and gently presses his forehead to Yuki's.

"The thing is, you don't _need_ to know what to do."

Natsuki's hands are exactly as Yuki dreamed them. Warm and ragged, but tender.

"I d-don't?"

"You absolutely don't." Natsuki removes his glasses.

"Me knowing is enough for the both of us."

Natsuki pulls Yuki to him, to meet his lips again. He intends to make this kiss last much longer than the first. He shifts, repositions on Yuki's mouth over and over, exploring the boy from every angle.

Yuki jumps when Natsuki's tongue slips smoothly into the kiss and attempts to coax his own into action. He complies jerkily, simultaneously feeling extremely foolish and a little bit...exhilarated. His fingers slide up over Natsuki's shoulders and he scoots into Natsuki's lap.

It's enough to startle Natsuki. "Yuki-!"

"I wanted to be closer." Yuki snaps back to self-consciousness. "I-is that okay?"

Natsuki stares at Yuki. Yuki fidgets. "What did I say?"

"Yuki. Please forgive me."

"Wh-"

In an instant, Natsuki is everywhere on Yuki. Arms around to his back, hands under his shirt, body against his, tongue teasing along his jawbone. Yuki cries out, vibrating with the contact.

"As close as you want, anytime. You don't have to ask." Natsuki blushes his sugary blush once more, and Yuki can't help himself. He mutters "cute" under his breath.

The blush deepens to a color like watermelon candy. Natsuki's lips graze Yuki's cheek, and he fingers the hem of the redhead's shirt.

"D'you think I could stay here tonight? I won't-" He falters. "We don't-have to do _everything_..."

Yuki nods into Natsuki's chest. "Yeah. Stay."

Natsuki thinks back to his house, to the preemptive dinner he made, and wishes he had hunches more often.

Haru wanders among the flowers in the garden, giving them their water.

Akira ponders the day's events over a bowl of curry shared with his feathered companion.

Keito chuckles into the pages of her book, shaking her head.

~~~End~~~

A/N: Ah, we have reached the finale. Again, thank you all very much for the support, and stop by again sometime! Youse guys are always welcome. Many cheers and a helluva good day.


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